


i reach for you as you vanish

by authoressjean



Series: the changed future [13]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Children, but no hurt kids, please read the warnings in the notes, you will see NO child violence here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 15:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authoressjean/pseuds/authoressjean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 'comfort from the storm'.</p><p>A day of playing turns frightening when Fili and Dernwyn's daughter Hildili goes missing while in the Royal Chambers of Erebor. Bad turns to worse when Bilbo goes looking for her and also disappears. As Thorin and the others desperately begin searching, and Bilbo struggles to keep himself and Hildili alive long enough for rescue, none of them expect to uncover the danger lurking within Erebor itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The fall

**Author's Note:**

> So you've read the fluff and you've read the humor and the schmoopy angst. Now we're back to the plot and the angst.
> 
> I've seriously been waiting to finish this for ages, but between work suddenly exploding and the heat completely blowing up, I've had no time or energy. But it's done and I'm very excited.
> 
> WARNING: There is NO CHILD VIOLENCE in this fic. I teach kids as a part time gig. I LOVE kids. So there will be none of that here. There will, however, be sexualized, vulgar comments of a violent nature in later chapters (not about the kids), and minor violence (also not the kids). Nothing very graphic. If you read 'to change' then you'll be fine. I just want to warn people.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hildili goes missing. Bilbo goes looking for her with dire consequences.

“Play.”

“No, m’busy.”

“ _Play_.”

“Lili, no.”

Oh, this was going to end in tears, Dernwyn knew it. Already her daughter’s face was screwing up to burst into sobs. And if it didn’t end in Hildili’s tears, it was going to end in Holdred’s when his sister smacked him upside the head with whatever she could reach. Probably her little toy she kept dragging everywhere.

Fili said Hildili took her stubbornness after Dernwyn. Dernwyn and everyone else knew better.

“Little one, come play with Mama,” Dernwyn offered. Hildili looked to her mother from her spot on the large rug, then looked back at Holdred. Dernwyn could almost see the thoughts rambling through her daughter’s head, the calculations between which one would offer more fun. Unfortunately, it looked as if Holdred was winning. “I have biscuits,” Dernwyn added, just to sweeten the pot.

That caught both of their attentions. “Biscuits?” Holdred asked hopefully, setting his papers and colored wax chunks aside. They’d been a gift for his sixth birthday just a few short months ago from Bilbo, who’d insisted they were a hobbit child’s favorite toy. He’d called them ‘cranns’ or something, Dernwyn didn’t remember. But the colors were Holdred’s favorite toy, precious above everything else he owned.

Which was why, as soon as Hildili had asked to play, Holdred had known exactly what she was really asking for. “Lili, no,” Dernwyn said firmly when her daughter reached for the colors. Hildili pouted but reached again, tentatively, for the red color. Holdred quickly scooped them all up and cradled them to his chest. And they were right back to Hildili either crying or hitting Holdred, probably with the stuffed dragon she was clinging to. Bofur had carefully, with Ori’s help, put the thing together. Apparently it bore such a likeness to the old dragon Smaug that Thorin had scowled at it as soon as he’d seen it and Bilbo had blinked in surprise.

It was, unfortunately for the both of them, Hildili’s favorite toy. Especially the open jaw and teeth that she fondly ran her fingers over when she played with it. Dernwyn wasn’t exactly sure what that meant.

“Lili, go play with your dragon,” Holdred said firmly, as firmly as a six year old could. Hildili clutched at her dragon and narrowed her gaze. Someone was getting smacked upside the head, all right. “I wanna color.”

“Play!” Hildili insisted. “Please?”

It would’ve been much more believable, Dernwyn thought with amusement, if she hadn’t been brandishing her dragon as a weapon, scowling all while offering a polite word. Holdred didn’t look impressed. “I’ll play later,” he finally said, and Dernwyn gave him a bright smile.

“That’s very good of you, Holdred. Hildili, what do you say?”

“Please,” she said louder, as if that would change the timetable. She looked to her mother when the answer didn’t sway Holdred’s mind. “Please?” she asked, to verify.

Dernwyn didn’t have a chance to reply before suddenly Fili was there, swooping down and lifting Hildili into his arms. He swung her upside down, making her squeal with delight. Holdred immediately dropped his colors and hurried to his father’s side, getting caught up by the arm Fili freed. “I see a great battle going on!” Fili said, glancing over at Dernwyn. Dernwyn just raised her eyebrows. “Did I miss it?”

“The first strike hadn’t happened yet, but the Great Dragoness was about to descend upon the Prince of Colors with a mighty shriek,” Dernwyn said dryly. Fili grinned and, raising both arms away from his sides, bent down to share a kiss with Dernwyn. She caught the front of his tunic and kept him there for a moment longer, and only released him when the children began to laugh and squeal about not being let down. He gave her a wink, and somehow it never failed to make her want to kiss him again and, at the same time, scowl and punch him in the arm.

“I drawed a sword,” Holdred said proudly, holding out the drawing for his father to see. Hildili took the moment to reach for the colors, and without looking Fili swung her around the other way. By the standards of men, Lili should’ve been walking and speaking in full sentences, but by dwarven standards, she could still be crawling by six. She was stumbling as she walked now, but much preferred crawling, putting her only a year or two behind the children of men Dernwyn had known. It was a comparable mix of Fili’s dwarf blood and Dernwyn’s human heritage.

Hildili giggled and, thankfully, went the other way. “It’s well done indeed,” Fili praised, and Holdred seemed to stand all the taller for it. Dernwyn satisfied herself with leaning back in her chair, watching with pride as her husband, her strong, handsome Fili, played the part of father. He did it well, and never shied away from a chance to spend time with his children or Dernwyn.

She felt blessed. Never would she have imagined such a moment to be hers, and yet, here she sat, watching Fili, Holdred, and Hildili before her.

…Well, just Fili and Holdred. Dernwyn frowned, sitting up and looking for her youngest. Hildili was nowhere in sight. “Lili?” she called, and she thought she heard a giggle. She rolled her eyes and stood from her seat. “Where’s Lili?” she said, raising her voice to play, and another giggle echoed around her.

Echoed?

“Hildili?” she said, no longer playing but actively searching. Nothing answered her. “Hildili?”

“She was here just a moment ago,” Fili said. He was already searching behind the various pieces of furniture in the room. Holdred was racing for the room the two shared, and Dernwyn knew he wouldn’t find her there. She knew what their voices sounded like in every corner of their chambers, in each room of their living spaces, and that laugh hadn’t been in one of them.

“Hildili?” she called again, almost desperately now. She caught her skirt in her hands and began hurrying around the room, eyes scanning everywhere. Not the chair or the thankfully flameless hearth or-

The door that was hanging slightly ajar. Fili must not have shut it completely when he came in, and while she preferred to crawl, Lili _could_ still walk and pull at things, like doors.

“Dernwyn!” Fili shouted, but she was already flying down the halls, hoping beyond hope that someone else was there, someone who’d seen her daughter.

“Dernwyn, what’s the matter?”

Dernwyn turned at the sound of Balin’s voice and found him frowning at her. “Hildili,” she said breathlessly. “Balin, have you seen Hildili? She got out of the rooms.”

Balin immediately shook his head. “She can’t have gone far, and the doors are all locked to head outside,” he assured her. “She’s gotten into someone else’s quarters, that’s all. I think Legolas is around, I’ll see if he can aid.”

Dernwyn nodded and called again. “Lili!” Not even a giggle to answer her. She swallowed down her fear and fought to think. If Hildili thought they were playing a game, nothing was going to draw her daughter out…

Except for one thing. “Lili, I’ve got biscuits,” she said, and her voice echoed in the hallway. Hildili had come this way, she was certain of it.

“Biscuit?”

Dernwyn followed the voice to the main room, feeling relief so strong she thought she’d pass out. “Yes, biscuits,” she promised. “You can eat all you want and I’ll tell your Unca Bilbo not to yell at you about ruining supper…” She stopped in the room, staring.

Hildili wasn’t there. “Hildili?” she said, eyes casting everywhere. But there was nowhere to hide in the main room they shared, and her terrified eyes flew to the hearth, roaring merrily away. The gold gate was in front of it, however, and the worst Lili would get from it would be hot fingers, if that: there was a reason Thorin had commissioned it to be made from cool, pure gold. “Hildili?” she called again frantically.

She thought she heard a soft echo of her daughter’s voice, but nothing came. Even as she fought to hear, the doors behind her flew back against the wall. “Where is she?”

Dernwyn slowly turned to find Fili, Kili, Thorin, Bilbo, Balin, Legolas, and Holdred standing, hope on their faces. When they saw the stark fear on hers, however, they all froze.

She swallowed to try and find the words. “I…don’t know,” she managed. She looked around the room, staring hopelessly at the emptiness that she found. “I don’t know.”

 

“We’ll find ‘er,” Bofur promised Dernwyn for what seemed to be the thousandth time. Dernwyn nodded, cradling the cup of hot tea in her hands. It was most likely cold now, or so Bilbo would think. She’d been holding it for hours.

Oh but they were a right mess, all of them. Fili was sitting beside Dernwyn, running his fingers through Holdred’s almost white blonde hair aimlessly. Holdred was seated on the floor in front of his parents, clutching the little Smaug toy Hildili always carried with her. He’d found it, behind a chair near the hearth, confirming that Hildili _had_ gotten to the main room, before she’d simply…vanished.

Bofur was doing his best to console his ‘niece’, but he looked near at the end of his rope as well. Dwalin had rounded up the guards and urgently tasked them to secrecy. If word got out that Hildili was missing, well. They didn’t need the kingdom in a panic. Dis, Balin, and Legolas were conducting their own searches, running through room after room in the hopes that Hildili had crawled into familiar rooms and fallen asleep tucked behind a pillow or something. As the hours wore on, however, it got less likely.

“Sit,” Thorin said quietly as Bilbo passed him again. “You’ll do yourself no good pacing this way.”

“You sit,” Bilbo muttered as a response. Kili kept fidgeting with the arrowhead medallion hanging around his neck. Bilbo found his own fingers going to his marriage braid, as he always did when anxious, but how could he _not_ be anxious? Little Lili was only _four_ , and no matter whether that was a dwarf age, a human age, or a hobbit age, it was still far too young to be missing.

Where had she _gone_?

“I am sitting,” Thorin replied reasonably, and when Bilbo turned to glare at him, possibly even snap at him for being so calm at a time like this, he saw the tense lines around Thorin’s eyes, the tight lips that spoke of all the fears he was trying to hide. Bilbo deflated but didn’t stop playing with the braid.

“I can’t,” Bilbo replied simply. “If I sit then I’ll just be worse. Pacing is better.”

Thorin finally gave a short nod, but after a moment Bilbo sighed and settled next to him on the bench near the hearth. “I’ve lived through a great many and terrible things,” Bilbo murmured. “But this has to be the absolute worst.”

No one should have to live with a missing child. No one.

“Kili was lost to us for a day, once,” Thorin said quietly. He reached for Bilbo’s hand and took it gently in his own. “We finally found him, curled up outside amongst the trees, fast asleep. He’d gotten lost and couldn’t find his way home. But we found him.”

That was possibly not how this story was going to go, but Bilbo fervently hoped it was. “Then we’ll find her,” he said. “Right?”

Thorin didn’t say anything, only tightened his grip on Bilbo’s hand. Dernwyn looked ready for battle, but the shimmering tears hanging in her eyes spoke of her grief. Fili looked so lost that Bilbo ached to embrace him, and poor Holdred was left with only a single thing of his sister’s to cling to.

Bilbo shut his eyes. “I just keep hoping I’ll hear her voice,” he murmured. “I keep hoping if I call, ‘Lili’, then I’ll hear her reply.”

“Unca?”

“Like that,” he said. Thorin frowned.

“Like what?”

“Like…” Bilbo froze. “Lili?” he called again, hesitantly, only loud enough for Kili and Thorin to hear him.

“Unca?”

“Oh Mahal,” Kili said, catching everyone’s attention. Bilbo jumped off the bench, heart racing. Where had it come from? It had sounded so distant, but still loud enough to be heard. Where on earth was she?

Fili watched them with a frown. “What’s the matter now?” he asked, and his voice was rough with unshed tears.

“I heard her,” Bilbo said. He moved around the hearth, calling again. “Lili? Where are you, sweetheart?”

“Unca?”

“Hildili!” Dernwyn cried, leaping up from her own seat. She stopped in the middle of the room, much as the others did. Bilbo didn’t blame them: her voice was nowhere but everywhere, echoing all around them. No, there had to be a pinpoint, the child wasn’t a sprite. She was there, and from her small, frightened voice, she was most likely trapped somewhere. She’d gotten in somewhere that she didn’t want to be, and she couldn’t get out.

Bilbo followed the last known spot Hildili had been, right behind the chair near the hearth. “Lili, tell me where you are,” he asked. The rest of the room was silent, watching him with trepidation and hope.

“Cold,” she said, and Dernwyn shut her eyes. “Hun’gee. Biscuit?”

That got a startled laugh from Fili, at least, and even Dernwyn’s lips turned up. “I swear, your child is part hobbit,” Bilbo said, shaking his head. If she was well enough to ask for biscuits, however, then she would be fine.

But…cold? Where on earth was there anywhere in the room that was cold? Bilbo spun in a circle near the chair. She wouldn’t have gone far without her little Smaug. No, something else must’ve caught her attention, something must’ve caught her eye enough to abandon Smaug for just a little bit. Something like…the tapestry hanging beside the hearth. It usually hung higher, but the iron bar holding it in place seemed to have weakened a bit, and it hung nearly to the floor. The tassels along the bottom glittered with woven gold, and were _just_ the sort of thing that would catch a little one’s eyes. “Lili, tell Unca, how old are you?” he said to keep her talking. He made his way over to the tapestry and lifted it for more clues.

“Four,” she answered proudly, and quite loudly. At least, it echoed loud enough from the small hole in the wall.

“Oh Sweet Eru,” Bilbo murmured. Everyone quickly hurried over as he slid the tapestry away to reveal the small hole in the wall. Just big enough for a little wandering princess to crawl into.

Dernwyn dropped to her knees beside the hole. “Hildili?” she called. “Hildili, Mother’s here.”

“Mama!”

So close, but yet so far, and Dernwyn’s fingers looked as if they were trembling as she fought to not futilely reach inside for her daughter. “How do we get her out?” Kili asked.

“We take the wall down,” Thorin said. “Bofur, your mattock.”

“Wait,” Fili said, and Bofur stopped midstep. “And what if she starts crawling out while we’re hammering away?”

The thought of any of them accidentally striking her left them all sick to their stomachs. Bilbo nudged at the stone above the hole and found it surprisingly loose. “Here,” he said, and Thorin immediately lent his hand. Between the two of them, the first stone came away. “That…was easy,” Bilbo said, frowning.

“I’ll discover why later,” Thorin said, shaking his head. “My prime concern is my grandniece.”

“Unkin!”

Thorin gave a relieved laugh and knelt down to the hole. “Your Unkin would be much more appreciative if you’d crawl out, little one,” he said.

“Hi,” she said in response. “Two hi!”

Fili put his head in his hands. “Of all the times she decides to use more than one word as a response, of _course_ it had to be now,” he muttered. When the next stone was pulled, however, he was there, instantly putting everything he had into it.

Between Bofur, Kili, Thorin, Fili, and Bilbo, they had a bigger hole made. But the next stone refused to come easily, and they soon realized a bigger problem: this part of the room had been hewn straight from the mountain itself. “A natural air gap,” Thorin said, tightening his fists. “I do not know where it goes, or for how long.”

“What do you mean?” Bilbo asked with a frown. “What’s an air gap?”

“For miners,” Balin said as he, Dis, and Legolas returned to the room. “Air channels. Parts of the mountain just fell away easy enough, pockets that they mined into that collapsed. They wind all around the mountain, in the higher levels such as where we are. They end in various places.”

“So this is the end of one of them,” Dernwyn said, and Balin gave a grim nod. “You mean my daughter found one, and is _down_ one, right now.”

“Might not be down,” Bofur said. “Could be sideways and just tucked in a maze of sorts.”

And with the hole that size, no one was going to be able to help her anytime soon. “Is there any way we could get a light in there and help lead her out?” Kili suggested, but he’d barely finished speaking before Holdred was racing for the hole. Fili quickly caught him and pulled him back.

“Holdred, no-“

“I’ll fit,” Holdred said with all the stubbornness of his mother. “Lemme go!”

“Absolutely _not_ ,” Dernwyn said firmly. “I’ve already lost one of my children today, I am _not_ losing the second.”

Holdred stared at the hole miserably. “But Lili,” he said, and Bilbo clenched his fists helplessly. Not for the first time, he was grateful to have not had a sibling to worry over, to adore, to be so connected with, as Fili and Kili and Holdred and Hildili were. Any of the dwarves he knew seemed to have a sibling, and to lose them would be devastating. It was a terrible thought, but Bilbo was still thankful for being spared this particular pain.

“No,” Fili told his son. “Kee, do you think…?”

“Maybe Ori,” Kili said. “Ori might fit. He still might be too big, though. I don’t think he’ll fit.”

“I can get Dril and Dwalin,” Bofur said. “They might be able to just bust through.”

No, they’d get stuck. Holdred was small enough to work his way through, but as Bilbo looked at the hole and gauged its size, he came to the realization that Thorin did just seconds before his husband. It was enough time to hurry forward and settle on his knees before the king could do anything about it. Yes, it was just big enough. It would be a little tight, but provided that the tunnel didn’t get any smaller, he’d fit.

“No,” Thorin said firmly. He raced forward and caught Bilbo by the elbow to stop him. “Bilbo, _no_.”

“I’m not letting Holdred go,” Bilbo told him, equally as determined. “And _someone_ needs to get in there.”

“Unca?” Hildili called again, much louder as the echo seemed everywhere around him. And all he’d done was put his head into the tunnel. “Unca!”

“I’m coming, dear heart,” Bilbo promised quickly. Thorin looked _furious_ , but now that the words were out and the promise had been made, it was hard for Thorin to go back on the given word. Bilbo took pity on him and said, “I promise I’ll keep talking all the way in, all right? But if I can find her and get her out, I will.”

Thorin didn’t say a word, fingers clenched so tightly at his sides Bilbo thought they would burst. Bilbo knew his husband well enough by now: eight years by his side, and Bilbo could read Thorin Oakenshield better than anyone else could. He looked imposing and dreadfully angry from where he stood, nostrils flared and jaw tight. But Bilbo knew why he looked so angry.

Fear. Thorin was afraid for him. “I’m coming back out,” Bilbo said quietly. “And I’m bringing her out with me.”

“If we use a rope, we can help you find your way back,” Legolas said. Balin clapped his hands once.

“Good thinking, laddie. There’s a cord about somewhere…”

Within minutes the longest cord Bilbo had ever seen had been found. “That’ll last you a bit,” Kili tried to joke, but his eyes kept drifting to the hole, where Fili and Dernwyn remained, staring and clinging to each other. This was their best chance at finding Hildili before something horrible befell her, be it injury or hunger.

As a last thought, Bilbo grabbed the box of biscuits from the table and stuffed it into one of his pockets. Better to have something for her to eat as he brought her back, and he _had_ promised her biscuits. What kind of a great uncle was he if he couldn’t deliver?

Bofur came forward with the rope, but Thorin took it silently from him. Bilbo stood still as the rope was tied about his waist with deft, sure hands. Only when Thorin had finished tying did he dare to meet Bilbo’s gaze. Already he looked to be regretting his burst of anger. Bilbo shook his head and gave a wry grin. “One of these days, you’re going to trust me,” he said, pitching his voice low for only his husband to hear.

“I do trust you,” Thorin said softly. “It’s the fear in my heart I cannot quell.”

“I’ll come back,” Bilbo promised. “And if I don’t, feel free to tear down the whole mountain to find me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Thorin warned. He would, too, and they both knew it. Erebor would mean nothing to Thorin if Bilbo wasn’t there, and after all these years, Bilbo could finally believe it. He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his husband’s lips.

Then, after taking the offered lantern from Balin, he swiftly knelt and began heading down the tunnel.

It was dark and smelled of stale air. But the farther he went, the larger the tunnel got, until he was no longer compressed to shuffling but could arch his back if he’d felt so inclined to do so. It wove around a few curves, and a slight slope downward made the path interesting. Two paths emerged before him, splitting into a natural Y in the stone, and Bilbo paused. “Lili?” he called. “Lili, it’s Unca, where are you?”

“Unca!”

That way. He went left and down another short slope. The lantern he managed to hold in one hand, thankful that Balin had thought ahead to find one of the smaller ones. A large iron lantern would’ve been terrible to haul with him. The weight alone would’ve made it difficult to move through the paths so quickly. The stone was smooth this way, at least, but not so smooth as to be crafted by hand. It was a very natural smoothness, and Bilbo was grateful for the sake of his hands and for Hildili's.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even see the drop until his hand hit nothing. He let out a shout of terror as he began to fall, only for the rope around his waist to tighten to the point of pain. It did the trick, however, and he was back on the solid path not a moment later. “Bilbo!” Thorin shouted, his voice an echo all around him. “Are you all right?”

“Fine now, thank you,” Bilbo managed when his heart began to slow. “Good catch.”

“Catch?”

“There’s a large drop,” he said. He dared to hold the lantern out and found the shaft slender but still big enough to easily take a tumble down. And down it went, so far that Bilbo couldn’t see the bottom. “I need to turn around.”

“Unca?”

Oh no. Oh Mahal, Eru, _no_. “Lili?” he called tentatively, turning his head towards the hole. “Lili, are you there?”

“Hi!” she called back up from wherever the bottom was. “Two hi!”

“Hello!” Kili called, and Bilbo shook his head.

“She’s not calling out greetings, Kili. That’s what she was trying to say: it’s _too high_ for her to get out _._ ”

Dernwyn’s voice was the most terrified Bilbo had ever heard it. “She’s _down the drop_?!”

“Mama,” Hildili said, sounding a little more cheerful now. “Mama!”

Dernwyn didn’t answer, but Bilbo could well imagine Dernwyn in Fili’s arms, terrified for her child. “Lower me down,” Bilbo ordered.

“We’re near stretched to the end of the rope as it is,” Bofur shouted back. The rope tugged him back again, just a little. “That’s my hand near to the hole itself! There’s little to no rope left, we can’t lower you down.”

Finding another, longer rope would take time, and Bilbo highly doubted there was one to be found. He gazed down at the long and dark drop and only hesitated for the moment. He took a deep breath.

The rope was undone in the space of a few seconds. “Bilbo?” Thorin called at the sudden slack of rope. “Bilbo!”

“I’m sorry, Thorin,” he murmured. Louder, he called back, “You’ll find us. You always do.”

“Bilbo, _no_!”

And then he was falling, down and down at a dizzying rate with no knowing where the end was. It was dark, the lantern tight in his hand offering a brief flare that went behind him. It was cold and it was dark and dizzy, he was so dizzy and he could feel his heart pounding as he kept falling.

A brief flare of pain was all he felt a moment later and then he knew no more.


	2. The dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking for treasures, even Bilbo and Hildili shaped ones, always has to start with maps.
> 
> Bilbo and Hildili, meanwhile, will have to navigate through the dark without one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note to remind everyone: this occurs 8 years after 'to change'. Holdred is 6 as of a few short months before this fic occurs, Hildili is 4. Thus, Bilbo would be 58, Thorin 203.
> 
> Not too much angst in this one. I don't think. Truly. *shifty eyes*
> 
> But there is way more Hildili in this chapter. Even though it's a small chapter.
> 
> I'm leaving for vacation on the 26th, so this'll be wrapped up before then, I promise.

Bofur wasn’t sure who was more dangerous at the moment, Fili or Thorin. Fili was like a powder keg, pacing restlessly now that Dernwyn was away with Dis. Back and forth he went, his gaze dark and his fingers clenched so tightly behind him that they were all but white. Even Kili couldn’t get through to his brother, and was forced to be content in watching him move about the room.

Thorin, on the other hand, had roared as soon as the rope had gone slack and Bilbo’s voice had echoed back just what they hadn’t wanted to hear. No amount of calling or begging had brought about a response from either Hildili or Bilbo, and Thorin had immediately turned and flung the nearest chair against the wall. Then he’d stood, trembling, until Dis had rested a hand on his shoulder. He’d gone so startlingly limp that Bofur’d been afraid he’d passed out. But he’d remained standing, slumped like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Dis had managed to get him to another chair, but even now, two hours later, he hadn’t moved at all.

Bofur wanted to be nowhere near either of them right then. But going to join Dernwyn and Dis at the moment wouldn’t help, either. As much as he wanted to be there for his all but adopted niece, he feared he wouldn’t be able to keep a smile up. Not with her daughter missing.

Not with his little Hildili down who knew where.

Legolas had taken to slowly pulling the rope from the hole when it’d been decided it wouldn’t help any more. Bofur remembered hanging on to it as it had run short, determined and willing to shove himself into a hole he’d never get out of if it meant helping Hildili and Bilbo, but he got nowhere. And in the end, Bilbo had been his usual stubborn self and jumped in. It was one of the things Bofur liked the best in his friend: his tenacity.

“I remember when she was born.”

Kili’s soft voice caught everyone’s attention, though Fili glared at his brother before resuming his pacing. “Dernwyn was a wreck, all sweat and tears and blood, and you told her she looked beautiful.”

Bofur chuckled. “Aye. And then she punched him.” She’d had quite a fist for one so weak and tired. That and Fili had been too close to pull away in time.

The grin Kili gave was a faded comparison to the one he usually wore, but it was genuine, nonetheless. “You named her after…Dernwyn’s aunt, right?”

Fili shot his brother a very unimpressed look, already having guessed Kili’s game. Still, he answered, “Her _mother_ ,” and seemed intent on ignoring the triumphant look in Kili’s eyes.

“Then Dernwyn insisted she have a part of your side of the family, too,” Legolas added softly. “The ‘ili’ at the end. It suits her.”

“Lili was a loud one,” Bofur said thoughtfully, leaning back in his seat. He’d never heard such a pair of lungs on such a little one before. But her bright, almost white hair had been unmistakable, and as soon as she’d been placed in Fili’s arms…

“It was like magic,” Kili continued. “When she stopped crying. Oin set her in your arms, Fee, and she just curled up and looked up at you.”

Fili stopped pacing. Bofur glanced up and found the young dwarf frozen where he stood, staring at the ground. His eyes were wet, and his hands fluttered, as if desperate to hold something. Or a someone; a very small someone. He finally looked up at Kili, who was offering him a small smile. Something in Fili’s face must have given him a sign, because Kili was over to his brother not a moment later, holding him tightly in his arms. With Fili dealt with, Bofur finally dared to approach Thorin.

Thorin didn’t so much as lift his head when Bofur sat down beside him on Thorin’s right. Fili usually stood to Thorin’s right, but Bilbo always sat on Thorin’s left. It was his place, and the bare seat beside Thorin was disheartening. “They’re still in the mountain,” Bofur quietly pointed out.

“They could be dead, for all we know,” Thorin muttered under his breath. “Neither has answered since…”

Bofur didn’t need a reminder. “If Lili tumbled down that long hole and wound up still talkin’ and askin’ for biscuits, you know Bilbo’s just fine.” Or so he hoped. “Maybe there was a rock slide behind him, keepin’ him from givin’ an answer.”

Thorin gave no reply, but he seemed to be listening intently, maybe even clinging to Bofur’s words. No pressure there, of course. “Or maybe he’s already explorin’ to try and find a way out.”

The door opened to the main rooms, and Ori burst in, panting heavily. “Scrolls,” he gasped, and both Fili and Kili steadied him from falling over. “Found scrolls…maps. Old miner’s tunnels.”

Of course: if it was a natural air gap, then a miner would’ve found it years before. “Some of those tunnels you can’t even reach now, after what Smaug did,” Thorin said, but hope burned in his eyes at last, fully ignited. Bofur had no trouble beaming now as he stood and offered Thorin a hand.

“We’re miners and diggers, my most excellent majesty. We’ll not have any trouble gettin’ to where we need to go.”

Not when Bilbo and Lili’s lives were on the line.

 

“Biscuit.”

Bilbo sighed and rubbed at his head. “Last one,” he finally said, much to Hildili’s delight. Her face was positively filthy by the light of the lantern, but at least Bilbo could see it. She eagerly took the offered treat and began munching on it. She was content, at least. One of them should be.

He gazed up at where the hole had been. He’d shouted and called back up, but the minute he’d seen the rocks blocking the air gap, he’d known it was useless. He must’ve caught part of the wall with his head on the way down and sent the rocks cascading after him. He was lucky Hildili hadn’t been anywhere near the bottom when he’d landed. Not that he’d been conscious at that point. All he’d known was when he’d woken up, his hand had been unbearably hot, his head had ached, and Hildili had been sleeping on his chest, curled up in her favorite spot when they took naps together. It would’ve been a lot more enjoyable if he hadn’t found himself in a large patch of soft earth that felt a lot more like mud.

He flexed his hand and winced. It was a nice burn, that was for certain, and he’d had nothing to temper it with. He’d held onto the lantern, at least. Enough for it to burn against his skin. The cold mud he’d landed in had helped the heat in his hand a small amount.

Touching the lantern again wasn’t on his list of things to do, but they needed to get out of…wherever they are. “Well, my dear Lili,” he said. “Are you ready to explore with your Unca?”

She nodded around the biscuit she was still chewing. At least she didn’t tend to drool as much as Holdred had. Bilbo could’ve fair covered all of Dale with the amount of drool the boy had produced in his first two years of life. Hildili’s teeth, on the other hand, had come in fairly early, and she showed them off proudly as she took another chomp out of her biscuit.

The lantern was just going to have to go with them, there was no other way around it. Bilbo plucked a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around his hand as much as he could. Once secured, he gingerly lifted the lantern. The heat was tolerable, as long as he didn’t hold it for long, and especially if he didn’t grip it. With his other arm he caught Hildili who went willingly, still merrily eating her biscuit.

“Right,” he murmured, and set off.

They’d fallen into a cave, and a large one. The fall from the bottom of the tunnel had been cushioned primarily by the soft mud below. He was grateful for it, as it had saved his life and Hildili’s, even as he stepped around various puddles with a grimace. Some underground spring, he supposed. It made him wonder just _how_ far he’d fallen.

Oh but Thorin had to be furious right then. Bilbo knew his husband and knew him well. If Thorin let him out of his sight for the next twenty years, Bilbo would be surprised. It had gotten to be a joke, after the assassination attempt: Fili had suggested a bell, and Thorin had been a tad too enthusiastic about it. They all had, actually, and killing the idea had taken far too much effort. But it seemed whenever he got out of Thorin’s sight, that was when the terrible things happened. Mordor, Dekir and the assassin, and now tumbling down an air shaft to an empty cavern.

…Perhaps it would be better if Thorin _did_ keep an eye on him. Though he was drawing a line at the bell.

“Yum,” Hildili said upon swallowing the last bite, and her little voice echoed all around her. She whipped her head around in wonder, then let out a peal of giggles that resounded everywhere. Bilbo couldn’t help but grin at her childish delight. It made the dark cavern not quite as dark. The cave walls were mostly rocks, here and there, save for random pockets of dirt and mud from the underground spring. A random box of tools rested against a wall, a few tools spread out around it. Beyond that, it was a large, round cavern with absolutely no entrance or exit in it.

Bilbo raised the lantern to the walls, hoping to catch a shine of mithril or gold or silver or _something_. It was a trick he’d learned down in the lower mines: if ever you needed a way to light up a space, simply light up a wall. The entire room would gleam with all the veins yet to be tapped.

But the lantern did nothing but illuminate the stone. Frowning, Bilbo moved down along the wall, hoping for a glimmer of anything. The stone remained dull. Which meant if this had been a miner’s quarry of jewels and precious metals, it had been a long time ago. This was well mined out. That meant the tools were old and probably easily broken, should Bilbo have attempted to use them.

“Nothing current or useful,” Bilbo muttered. “Wonderful.” That didn’t mean there wasn’t an exit still, however. He raised the lantern and found the puddles reflected a bit of the light. The water was still, completely so. _No air or wind,_ Thorin had told him when he’d showed Bilbo a different underground pool, deep within Erebor. _The water will not move unless touched._

It had been a thing of beauty, at the time. Now it just left Bilbo worried. Was the entire cavern caved in? Was that why it had been cut off? What if there were bodies?

Bilbo’s heart leapt into his throat. He wasn’t sure he could stomach finding corpses, not now. And not for little Hildili to find. She was only _four_ , she didn’t need to see bloated bodies or skeletons! Just thinking about it was making his stomach turn.

Hildili’s stomach didn’t seem to have a problem with appetite, however. “Biscuit,” she asked, gazing at him imploringly.

“I told you, last one,” he said. It wasn’t the last one, there were still three more in the tin, but they were all the food he had for Hildili. If they wound up stuck for a day or more, he needed to be able to feed her. The thought of being in this dark and wet place for that long left him fighting back a shudder. He eyed the flame within the lantern warily. If it went out, he had nothing to relight it with. Absolutely nothing. Not a single match to be had.

No. There was no other solution: they had to get out.

“Shine,” Hildili said. She jumped in his arms, and he stumbled to keep a grip on her. “Shine!”

Bilbo frowned and followed her gaze. There, in the corner, the light caught a glint of something. “Good eyes, my girl,” he praised. “Oh, you beautiful, brilliant niece of mine.” He doubted he would’ve seen it at all. He hurried over, keeping Hildili on his hip, and quickly found that it was gold. Apparently it hadn’t been all mined out.

…Except that a gold vein didn’t typically come already melted and set into gold coins. He stared, completely bewildered. Hildili began leaning forward to catch one in her fingers, but Bilbo pulled her back gently. “Shine,” she insisted. “Play.”

“Not yet,” Bilbo said absently, his mind going a mile a minute. What on earth was a pile of gold coins doing there, in this dark and dreary cavern? It made absolutely no sense. He spun back around and looked at the larger room, perplexed.

Where _was_ he?

Something hit him in the head and landed below in the pile of gold coins, clinking softly. Bilbo glanced straight up and caught a slight shimmer of more gold. He raised the lantern and stood on his tip-toes, Hildili still tight in his arms. It was gold, whatever it was, and it seemed embedded in the ceiling, well past his grasp. Something else slowly fell down, and Bilbo tracked it as it landed in the gold pile.

Another gold coin.

Pieces slowly came together. The miner’s tunnel hadn’t stopped just because it was barren: go far enough into the mountain and it always yielded benefits. No, they’d stopped because they’d tapped into a greater source of gold, but one they weren’t supposed to be near.

The Treasury. They’d accidentally burrowed into the _Treasury_.

“Hildili, up you go,” Bilbo said, setting the lantern down. He caught Hildili by her legs and gently lifted her to stand on his shoulders. “Can you reach?”

“No,” she said. Still her favorite word for nearly two years running, unfortunately. At least this time she was using it correctly: she was still several feet below where the large piece of gold was. Perhaps a statue, a plaque, a large chair, Bilbo didn’t know. All he knew was that it was blocking the small hole that the coins were slowly slipping down through. The pile wasn’t large, perhaps the size of Holdred curled up at best. But enough that they were falling. It would take a thousand years for the Treasury to empty this way. Slow enough that no one would notice.

Bilbo finally brought Hildili down when it was obvious there was nothing more he could do. But this was their way out, and he was sure of it. It was simply a matter of getting up and through the hole. Getting someone to help them out was the obvious best way, but no one was going to notice a small hole amongst the gold in the Treasury. Not for years, if even then.

They didn’t have years. They didn’t even truly have days.

“Help!” he called up to the gold. “Someone, help!”

No one answered. Hildili just clapped her hands excitedly when his words echoed around them.

Bilbo sighed and sat down on the ground. Hildili leaned against his chest in her favorite nap position, though her fingers quickly found a coin to play with. She didn’t seem impressed by the shine, but more with the ridges along the edge of the coin. He couldn’t even dredge up a smile for her, and he was grateful she wasn’t looking at him.

There was no way out. There was no door, no exit, nothing. If he thought he’d had a chance of moving the heavy rocks from the air tunnel, he would’ve, and he would’ve climbed back up with Hildili. It was still a terrible option he couldn’t bear to think of. Mostly because the likelihood of him moving the stones was little to none. And there was no way he could reach the gold to climb out, and even if he did, what was to say there wasn’t something heavy to move there? There could be a tremendous weight of gold sitting over that hole, and he’d never move it on his own.

_Where’s your cleverness now, Bilbo Baggins?_ he thought bitterly. _You can fight orcs and face down assassins but you can’t even move a rock or a piece of gold._

He’d always prided himself on his intelligence, on his quick thinking and his wit. But now, now he was cursed with the consequences of his quick actions.

If he hadn’t, though, Hildili would still be down here alone, hungry, and cold. No, it was better this way, and Bilbo wasn’t regretting his actions. He just wished he’d thought it through a little more, if just for Hildili’s sake.

“Water,” Hildili said, and _that_ had been one of the responses he’d feared.

“I…don’t think you can drink the water, dear heart,” he murmured. If they got desperate, he’d drink some first. Stagnant water was bound to have terrible things growing within it, though.

“Swim,” she said, and Bilbo shook his head.

“No, no swimming. Let’s keep away from the water, shall we?” There was still enough water in some of those puddles to drown a being, especially a tiny one like Lili. He pulled her closer in his arms and ignored her squirming as she tried to free herself.

“Coin! Swim!”

What?

Curious, Bilbo let her go and watched as she immediately plopped another coin into the small stream of water beside them. The stream that was _moving_. Slowly he sat up straight, watching as the water indeed went rolling over a groove in the stone, one it had most likely put there over the ages.

If there was moving water, that meant it had to come from a source and go to a source. There was only so much water in the mountain.

“Up we come,” he said, quickly pulling Hildili to her feet and catching the lantern with his wrapped hand. She went happily enough, coin still tight in her little fist. Bilbo moved first upstream, following the steady trickle of water to a stone wall. It flowed down the rock slowly and gently, but the source was nowhere to be found. That didn’t help. Pursing his lips, Bilbo turned and headed back the other way.

The stream picked up a bit of movement on the other side of the cavern, the side Bilbo hadn’t quite explored before. As he moved along, he could see the stream widen out over the stones, sliding along swiftly but silently. The cavern floor sloped downward and the stream remained steady along a taller shelf. Nowhere close to where Bilbo could reach, after a short bit, and he followed with his gaze as best he could before he finally hit the wall. It was too high for him to see, now.

For the second time that day, Bilbo boosted Hildili up until she was standing on his shoulders, giggling merrily. “Tell me what you see, Lili,” he said.

“Swim,” she said. Water, then.

“Where does the water swim? Where does it go?”

“Dark,” she said. That didn’t exactly help, but Bilbo persevered.

“Does it go into the stone? Into the wall?”

“Dark,” she said again.

The stone wasn’t that dark. Even with the lantern settled down beside them, there would still be enough light above for her to see. He ran through what would make it appear dark. Dirt, perhaps?

He suddenly glanced up at her. “A hole?” he asked. “Lili, is there a hole?”

“Hole,” she agreed happily. “Tunnel!”

“Is the water swimming fast or slow?” he asked, hope beginning to rise again. If it was swimming – erm, moving, that is – swiftly enough, then maybe…

“Quick quick!” she told him, then wobbled, having tried to jump in joy. He swung her down, much to her glee. She darted back up to where the floor split with the shelf, watching the water happily. “Quick quick!” she said again.

If the water was moving quickly, it might be enough to carry out a message. Water like that would move through the mountain and hopefully end up _somewhere_. Somewhere to be found by a dwarf who could take it to Thorin and they could be found. Hopefully before his husband truly did tear apart Erebor. Thorin would do it, especially now that he’d lost contact with Bilbo.

But what to send as a message? He had no parchment on him, absolutely nothing that he could even scratch out words with. All he had were coins, Lili, the tin of biscuits, and himself. If he floated a biscuit, it could dissolve in the water, and it would be a waste of food he might need to keep Hildili alive. He couldn’t float the tin itself, it would go nowhere, and it was large enough that it could get stuck. He had nothing on him beyond his clothing, Hildili the same. Hope began to wane.

That was, until he saw the gold coin in her hand. Was it enough…?

He snagged another coin from the pile, the smallest he could find, and brought it to where the stream was flowing more swiftly. He carefully placed it in the water and watched as the power of the water was enough to push the coin along. He caught it and felt a surge of triumph. Now to add his message so it wasn’t mistaken as another random gold coin that wound up in a sink or a fountain.

He found his answer in Lili. “Lili, can I borrow one of your ribbons?” he asked, gesturing to the golden ribbon tied around a small portion of her hair. She nodded and he carefully undid the ribbon from the messy strands. He quickly knotted it around the gold coin until it was so snug it was sure to stay put. Only then did he finally drop it back into the water. The ribbon wasn’t enough to stop the coin, and he followed it with the lantern’s light until the glint of gold disappeared into the wall.

“Let it be enough,” he murmured. “Let them understand.”

“Shine,” Hildili said. Bilbo gave a soft chuckle.

“Yes, shine it did. Let’s go sit with the other shiny things, shall we?”


	3. The search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When maps offer no help, Bilbo's clue arrives. Now it's simply a matter of facing the Treasury - something Thorin hasn't done since he reclaimed Erebor.

“It doesn’t exist.”

“Ori, it very much does,” Fili insisted, pointing to the hole in the wall. “That’s an air gap!”

Ori pursed his lips. “And I’m telling you, it doesn’t exist on these maps!” As much as his friend didn’t want the answer, the truth was clear: the air channel hadn’t existed when the surveyors had gone through on their recent sweep of the mountain a few years ago, and it hadn’t existed on any of the records dating back to the founding of the mountain.

In sum, that air gap shouldn’t have been there.

“Well, it’s there now,” Nori said soothingly, and Ori almost couldn’t believe it: his brother was attempting to instill peace where Ori was getting flustered and frustrated. If that wasn’t a sign that something was very wrong in the state of the land, Ori didn’t know what was. “Where would it go if it _was_ there?”

“That’s just it, it could go anywhere,” Ori said as patiently as he could. Hours it felt like they’d been pouring over these maps, and not a single one had offered an answer. This was Ori’s subject, his expertise, this was what he was supposed to _know_ better than anyone else. And yet the answer completely eluded him.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if lives hadn’t been on the line, but they were, and that left Ori the most useless being in the room. Even Gimli was more use than he was: he’d taken up residence outside of the hole now, shouting to see if he could hear an answer. He hadn’t seemed to take the silence as discouragement, at least.

Ori didn’t realize he was fiddling with the edges of the map until Dwalin’s heavy hand rested on top of his. “Easy,” his husband murmured. “Nothin’ else you can do. Even the not knowin’s a boon, in its own right. Means we’ve gotta search elsewhere than these places, right?”

That…was true. If it wasn’t attached to one of these places, then it had to be elsewhere, between the other tunnels. “So be nice to my husband,” Dwalin growled, then pressed a quick kiss to Ori’s cheek, beard scratching against beard. Ori managed a quick smile of thanks before he brought his attention back to the table, determination renewed.

There wasn’t a single space to be had around the edge of the table itself. They’d run out of chairs, so they’d opted to shove them away in order for them to all stand and look them over. Legolas stood beside Kili, his hand surreptitiously wrapped around the other’s. Dori was down by the end with Dernwyn and Dis, and the three of them were examining another set of maps. Dwalin continued to move between Ori and Balin, the two resident experts. Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur were by the opposite side of the table with Gloin, and they were discussing what type of a mine it would have to be for an air gap that big.

At the head of the table stood Thorin, Fili to his right. They would call out questions, every now and then, then retreat back to looking over the various maps. No one bothered them unless they had a question of their own or another map to hand them. The more involved they could make the two, the better it would be.

No one spoke of Dernwyn and Fili’s hands joined on top of the table, stretched slightly to reach each other, and absolutely no one spoke of the ring Thorin kept twisting around his finger.

Thorin shoved the stack of maps away from him, and any other day, Ori might’ve protested the possible damaging to the papers. Now, they could all burn, as far as he cared. If they weren’t going to help them find Bilbo and Hildili, he didn’t care. They were useless pieces of paper that couldn’t help one of his dearest friends or Lili. “Is there truly no answer in these?” Thorin demanded.

“We could use them to find where there _isn’t_ something else,” Ori said, nodding to Dwalin. “It would take a bit more time, though.”

Thorin began to reply, then paused when a heavy knock fell on the door. “Enter,” he called, eyes already moving back to the papers.

The door swung open, and Dril stood there, looking a bit red in the cheeks. “My liege,” he panted, “you’ve somethin’ to see.”

Thorin cast a final glare at the maps on the table, then finally shook his head. “Lead on,” he said. Dril did so, his large frame moving surprisingly fast through the hallways. Ori didn’t even bother folding up any of the parchments or scrolls as he followed the others out. He could only hope that whatever this something was, it would help them find Bilbo and Hildili. There was nothing else that Ori had, otherwise. He had no other documents to help them.

Dril led them all the way down to the main hall, where several dwarves were gathered around the fountain. Hewn straight from the rock itself, the fountain filled with a natural spring that flowed down large chunks of silver. The spout was large and poured forth a combination of several springs that ran through the mountain. Nothing appeared out of place, and the dwarves around the fountain cleared quickly to let their company in. Ori peered around Kili to look at the fountain, but there was nothing different.

Then his eyes caught it. “There, in the water,” he said. Something that was decidedly not silver gleamed up at them. Something gold, with something almost swimming in the water around it.

“Followed the water out not that long ago,” Dril confirmed. “Thought it might help with…y’know.” The news of those missing was still being kept from the kingdom, as best as they could. Dwalin gave Dril a pat on the back for his good work, and the other dwarf gave a pleased smile.

Thorin pulled it out immediately and examined it in his hand. “A gold coin?” Gloin asked. “Sure it’s not been tossed in by someone?”

Ori would’ve asked his own question if not for Dernwyn’s cry. “Hildili,” she said, grasping for the coin. She quickly removed from it a long, wet ribbon that had been tied to the coin. “It’s Hildili’s. I put it in her hair this morning.”

“You did marry a clever one,” Balin murmured to Thorin. Thorin didn’t look as impressed as Balin did, instead staring at the coin as if it were the only thing left in the world. “Somehow, he got a note out to us, after all.”

“Now we only need to find a mine that has a natural spring, right?” Kili asked.

Oh, if only it were that simple. “That natural spring pops up everywhere in the mountain,” Ori said, and Kili’s shoulders dropped. “But it would come from the ground, you’re right about that. It eliminates some of the higher mines.”

Gloin held his hand out to Dernwyn. “May I…?”

Dernwyn dropped the coin in his hand without any further hesitation, still clinging to the ribbon. With a quick flip of his hand Gloin tossed the coin once, twice, three times in the air. When it landed at last in his palm, he slowly shook his head. “Old coin,” he said. “Minted before the fall of Erebor.”

Thorin inhaled deeply, as if for patience. “Please tell me this helps us,” he managed, but his voice was low and dangerous sounding.

Gloin didn’t seem concerned. “Only one place these coins are now,” he said. “Treasury.”

Without a word Thorin turned on his heel, Fili and Dernwyn right behind him. Ori quickly sprinted after them to catch up, ignoring the murmurs running through the dwarves nearby. This would make the rumor mill in no time, and eventually the truth was going to come out. Hopefully they could find Bilbo and little Hildili first.

Down, down through the passages they flew, passing miner after worker after tinker. Usually, when Ori headed down this way, which wasn’t very often, he would take the time to enjoy the view. The main path down to the Treasury was a narrow path indeed, slowly circling around the deepest, largest mine in the mountain. One could look down and see the vast emptiness that sparkled with every catch of light. Or one could look up and find the light streaming in through the columns.

Today, there were other important things on his mind, such as not tripping over Kili and not letting Gimli jostle him off the side. A firm grip caught him by the arm, and Ori breathed a little easier. If he did stumble, Dwalin would have him steadied within moments.

They finally made it to the level of the Treasury, and Thorin turned off the path and headed across the tiled floor. The hall in front of the Treasury was quiet and empty, the only sounds their quick footsteps. The columns narrowed until they were bracketing the door, and Thorin grabbed the handle with a firm grip.

The doors didn’t open. Thorin didn’t move. Frowning, Ori peered around Fili and Kili to see what had kept Thorin from opening the doors.

Thorin stood, as still as a statue, hands so tight around the door handles that his knuckles were white. His breathing was harsh, but he didn’t move.

Oh.

_Oh_.

Dis slowly came forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It will not take you,” she said quietly. “I promise you this.”

“I have not been here since…since the Arkenstone,” Thorin admitted, his voice like gravel. “I have not entered. I’ve been too afraid to do it. The gold-“

“It holds nothing over you,” Dis said sharply. “It’s just gold. And you _can_ stand against it. You did it before when you had no reason to push it aside save for your own wanting to. You can do this now, brother mine.”

“She’s right, y’know,” Bofur said. “I’d trust her, if I were you. Your sister’s far too strong and smart to be wrong now.” He threw a grin her way, and Dis shook her head but gave a wry grin back.

“If Bofur can see her wisdom, there’s a sure sign of how obvious it is that she’s right,” Nori pointed out, and Dwalin snorted. Bofur just shrugged good-naturedly, and it was just enough to let the tension seep from Thorin’s shoulders.

“For Bilbo and Lili,” Fili said softly, resting a hand on Thorin’s arm. Thorin nodded.

“For Bilbo and Lili,” he echoed, then pushed the doors open.

The first thing that Ori thought of was _bright_. The light seemed to fairly glint off of every piece of gold within the Treasury, and it resulted in a light so bright Ori could’ve sworn he was gazing at the sun. It was startling and he shielded his eyes as best he could. He almost wanted to put his growing beard over his eyes, but his hair could only do so much. Given how light and golden red his hair was, it would just reflect off of that and leave him even more blinded. The others seemed just as transfixed at the gold around them, and Ori remembered this, from their first journey to Erebor. He remembered walking in and thinking how beautiful and bright it had all been.

Now the light was just an annoyance and it wanted it to stop shining so much. It was a relief to see that the others looked to feel the same.

Thorin didn’t even so much as pay that much attention to the gold, moving instead through the Treasury with purpose. “Bilbo!” he called, and his voice echoed in the cavernous hall. “Bilbo! We’re here!”

“Hildili!” Fili yelled, Dernwyn doing much the same in the opposite direction. “Lili, it’s Papa!”

“Spread out,” Balin ordered. “Everyone take a corner, tell us if you hear anything.”

They were quickly fanned out in various directions, calling the names again and again. Every now and then they would pause, waiting for a response, but they heard none. As they continued to move through the Treasury, Ori could feel his chest tightening.

Because they weren’t here. And if they weren’t here, then where could they look next?

Kili stopped near Ori, looking just as disheartened. “Anything?” Kili asked, but he already seemed to know the answer.

Ori shook his head. “Nothing.” The gold beside him twinkled brightly, far too brightly, and Ori shoved it aside and sent the pile cascading down in a single fit of anger. He clenched his fists, feeling so hopeless and lost, and Kili looked just as grieved as he did. “I’m sorry,” Ori said quietly.

If Bilbo and Hildili were never found, it wouldn’t even be Ori and Kili who suffered the most. The thought of even meeting Thorin or Fili’s gazes right now was more than he could bear.

Kili swallowed but called again. “Bilbo! Hildili!”

Silence. Ori took a deep breath and tried to remain optimistic. “Let’s try over there,” he said, pointing to one of the last corners.

“Kili?”

Ori and Kili both froze at the same time. “Did you hear that?” Ori whispered. Just a dull murmur, hardly audible, but he could’ve sworn he’d heard…

“Uncle?” Kili said, catching Thorin’s attention. He waved him off. “Not you, Bilbo. Bilbo?”

“Kili, is that you?”

Oh thank _Mahal_. “We found them!” Kili shouted, and that brought everyone running. Except there was one small problem, one that Dwalin quickly pointed out.

“Then where are they?”

Kili bit his lip. “Uncle, where are you? Do you have Hildili?”

“Unkee!” Hildili’s little voice said, though it sounded muffled. Both of their voices sounded dull, as if far away, but there was no mistaking that they could be heard and could hear in return. Ori felt as if he’d fall down from the sudden swing of emotions. Being in battle at the Black Gate hadn’t been this nerve-wracking, truly.

“Lili!” Kili exclaimed, but Dernwyn and Fili were immediately there, crushing Kili between them, their joy almost out of control. Kili clung to them, a huge grin on his face.

“Lili, it’s Papa and Mama, we’re here,” Dernwyn called, laughing through what sounded like tears. Hildili immediately babbled back laughter in return, calling for them both with excitement.

Thorin knelt beside the gold, and everyone else hushed. “Bilbo,” Thorin said, swallowing hard. “Bilbo, where are you?”

“Beneath the gold,” Bilbo called back. “It’s, I can only see a small bit of it. The coins keep falling through. We’re both safe.” He paused. “You’re very angry with me, aren’t you?”

“You have _no_ idea,” Thorin managed, but even if Bilbo couldn’t see the smile, there was no mistaking it in his voice. “I am never letting you out of my sight again. _Ever_.”

“I thought as much,” Bilbo said with a grin in his own tone. “It’s…something big and flat above us. A chair? Box?”

Beneath the gold. The pile Ori had knocked over. “We couldn’t hear them until I kicked this pile away,” he said, pointing to it. That was all the encouragement the others needed. Hands dove in and began digging and shoving until a valley began to appear. Priceless items were tossed away as if garbage, all to free the two trapped beneath the gold.

And finally, underneath a flat ceremonial tray, their true treasure was found.

Ori was fairly certain two dirty faces had never been so well received before. Kili hollered and wrapped himself around his husband, and Legolas in turn pressed a kiss to Kili’s head, smiling brightly. The other dwarves were boisterous in their jubilation, but even as Dwalin wrapped his arms around Ori, the scribe couldn’t help but watch the line of Durin. Fili and Dernwyn were kneeling by the small hole to finally, _finally_ see their daughter after nearly a day apart. Thorin stood behind them, eyes locked on his husband. There was nothing but relief in his gaze and so much love that Ori couldn’t help but smile.

Finally the clamor died down, enough for Bilbo to speak. “The hole’s not big enough to get us through,” he said. “Going to need to be a bit wider. I should be able to lift Hildili through without trouble, however.”

“Even that’ll be a tight squeeze,” Bofur said.

“Hun’gee,” Hildili said, and it was so good to hear the little one’s voice. “Biscuit?”

Dernwyn grinned, a bit too widely, in Ori’s opinion, but no one was about to call the distraught Shieldmaiden and mother on her hysteria. “You can have all the biscuits you want, as long as I get a promise from you that you’ll _never_ go wandering off again without me.”

“Is there a way I can receive the same promise from you?” Thorin asked, finally kneeling beside the hole. Ori made his way over and glanced down into the hole. Bilbo’s face looked just as sheepish as he’d expected. “Withhold tea, perhaps?”

Bilbo rolled his eyes, then winced. It was quick and covered immediately with his response, but enough to make Thorin tense and narrow his gaze. “Withholding tea from a hobbit is torture. You should know that by now.”

“You’re hurt,” Thorin said shortly. Bilbo pursed his lips but said nothing. “How badly?”

“I’m walking and talking, am I not?”

Not the answer Thorin wanted, if the way he clenched his fists was any indication. Kili quickly jumped in to speak. “How do we get them out? I don’t think any of us brought tools with us.”

“All we need’s a few mattocks or so, cut our way through. It’s already a pretty well hewn hole, makes it easier to keep goin’.”

Ori paused at Bofur’s words. “Hewn?” Dwalin asked, speaking for them both. “What do you mean?”

“It’s an abandoned miner’s tunnel,” Bilbo explained. “I’ve found tools and what-not. But there’s no gold or mithril veins down here. I think they hit the Treasury and gave up on it.”

Ori slowly met Balin’s gaze, and the dwarf looked as troubled as he did. “What?” Bilbo asked when the silence went too long. “What’s the matter?”

It was Thorin who spoke, voice grim and worried. “There _is_ no tunnel below the Treasury.”

“I’m standing in it, aren’t I? I’m-“

The sudden silence made everyone hurry to the hole. “Bilbo?” Thorin called, and despite being able to see the hobbit, it wasn’t encouraging. Bilbo was looking off to Ori’s left, exposing the crusting blood on his forehead and in his hair. It was the fear on his face, however, that left Ori with a pounding heart. And when Bilbo spoke in a quiet voice, Ori’s heart stopped all together.

“I think…I think there’s someone there.”


	4. The truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth behind the cavern is discovered, and Bilbo's life is placed on the line. But the dwarves have more than one trick up their sleeve, and they're not letting Bilbo go without a fight.
> 
> WARNINGS: Minor suggested sexual violence. Nothing happens. People have dirty mouths and bad intentions. Nothing graphic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is because of my tremendous love for y'all that I am posting this chapter when I've already posted another chapter today.
> 
> ....That and the fact that I can't STAND leaving a cliffhanger because it's way too much fun sharing the ending. I cave way too easy, yo.
> 
> WARNINGS: Suggestions of sexual violence (not realized) in this chapter. Nothing graphic in the slightest. I have my own triggers with that, so no, nothing serious there. But I am warning irregardless.
> 
> Don't read the End notes until you've read this last chapter.

The small rumble had caught Bilbo’s attention immediately. For a moment, he’d feared a cave-in, and he’d clutched Hildili closer to him. Then the noise had stopped, and he’d let himself breathe again.

The flicker of a light, off to the far side of the cavern, had immediately caught his attention. The rumbling had begun again, and he’d caught a glimpse of a stone being pushed away. More light had poured in, torches making the outline of the rolled away rock all the more obvious.

When he’d shared the quiet news with those above, there’d been silence. Thankfully, there'd been no commotion following that. Bofur, Dwalin, and Ori had taken off, hopefully to get tools to widen the hole. There was no question about it: they needed to get Bilbo and Hildili out, _now_.

Lili. “Take her,” Bilbo said, raising Hildili up onto his shoulders. She didn’t giggle now, fear obvious on her little face. She was just small enough that she might’ve had a chance of getting through the hole. “Fili, _take her_!”

“Who’s there?” a gruff voice called out from the darkness. The torches began to move closer, and the slide of metal from a sheath was unmistakable.

Hands caught Hildili at last and began to lift her. She was letting out soft whimpers of fear, but it didn’t matter if she began to cry now, because whoever it was coming in knew that Bilbo and Hildili were there in the dark tunnel. The tunnel that didn’t belong there because it was being carved out by an unsavory lot, one that Bilbo could see now by torchlight. There were two dwarves, both of them scarred and dangerous, and three taller beings. Men. One hobbit against two dwarves and three men. He swallowed hard.

After a quick and careful maneuvering, Hildili was out and into her mother’s arms. “Bilbo!” Thorin called, extending his hand down into the hole. His entire arm nearly took up most of the hole, though, and Bilbo knew that if they nearly hadn’t gotten Lili out, they certainly wouldn’t get him through. With one last look up at his husband, trying to ignore the fear on Thorin’s face, Bilbo took one step away from the hole.

“My, my. King’s favorite pet, Bilbo Baggins ‘imself,” one of the dwarves said, and the others chortled. Bilbo swallowed, fighting back panic. He didn’t even have Sting on him, just the small lantern in his hand.

“I am Bilbo Baggins,” he agreed as they approached. He fought to keep his ground. “I believe there’s been a mistake. This tunnel-“

“Is _our_ tunnel,” the man leading the way said. His voice was cold and cruel, and when he raised a torch to his face, it lit up a scar that crossed from the edge of his mouth to hair. His nose looked crooked, as if broken more than once, and when he gave a grin, his teeth reminded Bilbo far too much of an orc's. The man ran his tongue over the blade he held in his other hand. Bilbo stared, heart pounding. “You’ve no right to be in it, Halfling. We’ve our gold and our duties. Don’t you have a bed you should be warming?”

Thieves. They were thieves, trying to tunnel into the Treasury itself. They must’ve accidentally opened the air gap as they’d kept digging. Then they’d found the Treasury. “If gold’s what you want, then I’m certain we can figure something out-“

The man took a menacing step forward, and Bilbo, on instinct, stumbled backwards. The lantern was getting hot against his bandaged hand, for how long he’d been holding it now. He briefly thought about calling for a weapon above, but there’d been no sound from the Treasury for quite some time. He chanced to look up towards the hole and couldn’t see Thorin, or anyone, at all. Whatever it was his husband had planned, he hoped it was sooner rather than later. Bilbo's cleverness worked well enough against dumb trolls and orcs who only wanted a fresh meal. Not men and dwarves who would deal someone pain just to make them laugh.

“We’ve come for gold and then some,” the man said darkly, and the way he looked Bilbo up and down left him feeling sick to his stomach. “You’d make a pretty prize, too. Might make a few people mad, though.”

“Just a few,” Bilbo agreed. If Thorin was hearing this, his dwarf had to be _furious_. It was that knowledge that helped Bilbo stand up straighter to face the man directly. “You have one more chance to turn around and leave. We’re done negotiating.”

The man threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, but I _like_ you,” he said. “You’ve got fire. No wonder he likes you in his sheets: doesn’t need a roaring hearth when he’s got a spitfire like you to keep him warm.” He leered at Bilbo openly, and the men behind him chuckled. “You’re worth quite a fuss, I can see that now. Nothing says I can’t take a _small_ prize of my own.”

Eru alone knew what they would’ve done to Hildili if she’d been there. At least she was gone and safe. “I can cause quite a fuss, too,” Bilbo warned. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it against his ribcage, painful and harsh. Couldn’t his dwarves send him a weapon down? Something, anything? What were they _doing_?

“Not quite part of the plan,” the man said, and he gave an innocent, apologetic face as he handed his torch over. “But I suppose you’ll do. Now, you can either come quietly, or you can come along the hard way.” His lips parted into a toothy grin. “I’m almost hoping you’ll make it difficult. I like it when they fight.” Then he marched over to Bilbo.

Bilbo threw the lantern at him in desperation, then took off running into the inky darkness. The man cursed and shouted, and the torches all congregated around him for a moment. “Find him!” the man yelled, and Bilbo kept running, trying not to breathe harshly and give himself away. If he could keep hiding in the darkness, just long enough to keep himself safe, long enough to maybe get to help-

A thunderous noise shook the cavern and tripped Bilbo up, sending him stumbling to the ground. Light poured in, enough to give him away, but then he could hear roars, voices he knew well, and when he turned around, his dwarves were sliding down a slanted, broken slab of the Treasury floor. The five would-be thieves put up a fight, but against Dwalin and Dernwyn and Fili, there was no way they could win.

Against an absolutely _enraged_ Thorin Oakenshield, they stood no chance.

A man and dwarf fell by their hands swiftly enough. The other dwarf was knocked unconscious by Fili, and Kili actually had to hold his brother’s arm to stop a further damaging blow. The other man had been dropped to his knees by an arrow in the thigh from Legolas, and wisely stayed where he was. Two arrows aimed at a face by two furious elves, and blades at the throat by more than one angry dwarf tended to encourage wisdom like that, Bilbo thought.

The last man remaining, the one who’d threatened Bilbo, was left to Thorin. His husband was toying with the man, that much was obvious, slashing and cutting to leave non-fatal wounds. The man was clearly burned from the lantern Bilbo had thrown at him, making it that much easier to overpower him, and within moments, Bilbo watched as the man fell to the ground, coughing.

Thorin slid Orcrist’s sharp tip beneath the man’s chin but said not a word. The man began to laugh. “Did I insult your favorite bed-mate?” he asked, wheezing. He didn’t seem to care that there was a blade at his throat. “Is he really that good? I’ve never had a Halfling before. Would’ve, maybe, if you hadn’t come crashing in. Bet he breaks nicely.”

“You will _not_ touch him, _ever_ ,” Thorin growled. His eyes were like flames, but the man didn’t even flinch. He knew he was as good as dead, Bilbo realized. He knew it, he _wanted_ it. Bilbo rose to his feet, a bit unsteadily, and made his way to his husband.

The man shook his head. “He’s the one that stumbled into our tunnel. Makes him our property, not yours, don’t you think? Of course, I can understand if you won’t share.”

Bilbo could all but _feel_ the moment Thorin’s control snapped, and he caught his husband’s arm before he could deliver the killing blow. “Bilbo, let go, _now_ ,” Thorin said, voice dangerous and low.

Instead of answering him, Bilbo turned to the man, who was still grinning up at him. “You don’t fear death,” he said. “I’d say it’s an admirable trait, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there is always _something_ to fear. Everyone fears something. If you don’t fear death, then what is it that you fear? A lack of gold?” He thought over the way he’d advanced on Bilbo. “Someone else who holds power?”

As he spoke, the man’s grin had slowly disappeared, but it was the last one that made him flinch in fear. And there it was. “You fear someone else,” Bilbo said. “You fear someone else so much that death is a better alternative.” Bilbo had almost reached that fear, once, as he’d carried the Ring. But he’d had the thought of Thorin and his mother to keep him going. He didn’t think this man had anyone on his side. It was terrifying to see, and Bilbo felt his skin crawl at the memories it invoked.

He could be like this man, desperate and begging for death.

Thorin seemed to war with himself with the newfound knowledge. The man gazed at him, eyes widening all the more fearfully when the dwarf finally removed his blade, albeit with great reluctance. “I think there’s room enough for him and the others down in the prison,” Thorin said, teeth still gritted in fury. “Dwalin, if you would.”

“My pleasure,” Dwalin growled.

The next moments happened in a blur.

The man lunged forward at Bilbo, a blade in his hand. Bilbo stumbled backwards and landed on his burned hand, causing him to cry out. Thorin’s blade was already swinging upwards, Dwalin’s warhammer swinging high, but neither reached their intended target. The man’s blade turned, aiming inward instead of out at Bilbo, and he continued to fall. The realization came almost as suddenly as he landed on his own weapon, and the dull thud of his body echoed in the cavern. In the light that poured in from the room above, the small pool of blood from beneath the body was all too visible. Bilbo pulled his legs backwards in jerky movements as the blood slid closer to him.

Hands pulled him up, setting him on his feet. “Easy, Uncle,” Fili murmured as he helped Bilbo stand. Bilbo nodded absently, his eyes still locked on the body of the man. Dead by his own hand. No, not really his own hand: fear. Fear had taken his life. Fear of someone else. What kind of person made one afraid enough to take their own life?

He finally moved his gaze to Thorin who was sheathing his blade. Both of them stared for a long moment. Then Bilbo rushed forward, all but flinging himself into Thorin’s arms. He wrapped his arms around the back of Thorin’s neck and held on as tightly as he dared. Thorin’s hands slid up and down his back, half to soothe, half to verify that Bilbo was truly there.

When they finally climbed from the cavern, two prisoners in tow, Bilbo refused to look back at the bodies of those slain. He stayed by his husband’s side instead, hand wrapped firmly around Thorin’s.

No one spoke as they left the Treasury.

 

“Biscuit.”

“Here, have mine,” Holdred said, handing his treat over to his sister. Hildili beamed and wrapped both of her little hands around the biscuit. There were crumbs all over the dragon toy in her lap and the colors at her feet, but neither Lili nor Holdred seemed to care much.

Dernwyn was fairly certain if Hildili sneezed bits of biscuit all over Holdred’s face that her son wouldn’t care. As soon as Hildili had been brought to Holdred, he’d been beside himself, following her everywhere, holding her hand. Even if the hole near the hearth had been filled in, Holdred refused to let her out of his sight.

Not that Dernwyn blamed her son at all. She’d barely been able to part with Hildili after finally having her in her arms, but the lure of battle, of finally having someone who could take all of her grief and rage, had been far too tempting. She’d handed Hildili to Balin and raced back to the Treasury to help fight when they’d blown the floor.

Where Bofur had gotten the explosive powder, she didn’t really want to know. She was just grateful her dwarf-uncle had found it.

All she knew was that at the end of it all, there’d been three bodies, two prisoners, a large mess, and an injured hobbit. And hadn’t _that_ been loud: as soon as Thorin had seen not only the blood on Bilbo’s head from a fall, but also the burned hand from the lantern, that had been the end of the silence.

Not the end of Bilbo’s silence, though. Dernwyn glanced up from her seat in the main room to where Bilbo sat quietly by the hearth. His ankles were crossed as he leaned back in his chair, as if content, no different than any other day. The way his fingertips went white as they pressed against the teacup, however, told a different story. His hand was properly bandaged now, and Oin had finally been convinced to only lay a healing paste on the cut on Bilbo’s head. He’d only caught it on a random rock as he’d fallen, he’d said, when he’d been pressed for an answer. It had just bled a lot, that was all, he’d insisted. And through it all, he’d been quiet and far too still, his mind obviously elsewhere. He seemed unaware of the worrying gazes that Dernwyn, Kili, and the others in the room were giving him. If Thorin had been there, he would’ve spoken to Bilbo at length until the hobbit had answered, but he was ensuring that the Treasury was closed to everyone until the tunnel could be investigated further.

Mind made up, Dernwyn rose from her seat and moved to the hearth. She couldn’t help but glance back at her children, but Hildili was playing happily with Holdred, biscuit in one hand, her dragon in the other. She smiled before turning back to Bilbo.

Only when she sat down across from him did he finally seem to collect himself. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I haven’t been ignoring you for long, have I?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve only just sat down.” She paused, trying to find the right words.

“You’re worried, too.”

“And with good reason,” she countered. At least he was willing to speak about it. “I don’t think I’ve ever known you to be so quiet. You’ve got us all worried, Thorin most of all.”

Bilbo let out a soft sigh. His gaze dropped to his teacup. “I meant about your children, but I know,” he said quietly. “I know.” He bit his lip, and suddenly Dernwyn was reminded of so many years ago, when she’d been a young maiden in Rohan and he a traveling hobbit with a Ring. He’d looked this way then, when he’d told her about Thorin and the heartache there. Her stomach lurched unpleasantly.

“It’s not…Thorin, is it?” she asked hesitantly. “Or any of us?”

He raised his gaze to hers, and she was startled at the fear in his eyes. “What if that man was there because someone had his family? His children? What would you do to get your children back?”

Dernwyn glanced back at her own two little ones, still happily playing together on the floor. _Anything_ was her answer and Bilbo knew it, but the man’s actions hadn’t been in the same vein. “There’s a difference between desperation and malice,” she said firmly. “Those weren’t the words of a desperate man, Bilbo.” No, they’d been callous and cruel and so terrible they’d made her stomach turn. Thorin had barely been held back by Dwalin when he’d heard them. He’d only remained still at Bofur’s request as he’d employed the others to silently pour the exploding powder everywhere. Only when they’d been certain that Bilbo had been safely away from the hole had Bofur lit the match and brought the floor down nearly on top of the thieves.

Bilbo didn’t look any more relieved. “What’s really bothering you?” she asked at last. “Because I think you know as well as I do that he didn’t act that way to save another.” He’d acted that way because he could, plain and simple as that.

It took a long time for Bilbo to reply, and when he did, she almost wished he hadn’t. “When I traveled through Mordor, I was alone. The Ring was so heavy and it _hurt_ , and it was…it was just me. I thought about letting the exhaustion and the heat take me, but I always pushed the thought away. Because I had the thought of my mother and of Thorin. Just the thought of them, and it was enough to keep me going. Even when Sauron and the Ring kept pulling me down, kept twisting me up and piercing me like an overgrown thicket of thorns, I still had my mother and Thorin. It kept me going.”

“You had us today,” Dernwyn said. “We never would have let them pull you down.”

“But I was nearly there,” he insisted. “Dernwyn, any longer in Mordor and I would’ve reached the level of terrified he did.” Bilbo ran his fingers anxiously along the teacup until he finally set it aside on the nearby table. “I saw myself in him. I saw that, that fear, that desperation. He had _no_ one beside him. No one to stand by him, no one to fight for. If I’d had no one, if I’d realized just how alone I truly was, would I have been-“

“No.”

They both turned at the sound of Thorin’s voice. Only a few hours ago, he’d held a blade in hand, his royal cloak flying about him like another weapon, his beard and hair gleaming with the mithril and gold of royalty. Now he only wore a soft tunic, his hair loose and falling about his face as he came to kneel beside his husband. “No,” he repeated softly. “You would not have been him. There is not a single part of you that could become that vile, that wicked.”

“I could’ve been that desperate,” Bilbo whispered. “That afraid.”

“I wouldn’t have let you,” Thorin replied. He caught Bilbo’s bandaged hand between both of his, cradling it as gently as if it were a newborn babe. “You were not then, and are not now, alone. And you will never be alone.”

It was a promise Thorin could never keep. Death came for them all, in the end. Dernwyn knew that much. She could only hope that for their sake, death would stay far away until age mandated otherwise. She hoped she herself would live to see her children grow. More than her own mother and father had done. More than Thengel had done. She let the air burn inside her lungs, refusing to breathe for just one long moment. Instead, she turned from the sight before her, of Bilbo clinging to the fool’s promise he so desperately needed from Thorin, to her children.

Then immediately let out a quick laugh, catching the attention of the others.

Hildili was trying her best to break the biscuit, all while Holdred was cringing in anticipation of crumbs flying everywhere. When it did break, however, it broke almost neatly down the middle. Hildili gave a bright grin and handed a half to Holdred, who took it with a grin of his own.

She hadn’t realized Fili had come in until he crouched beside her, hand finding hers easily. “Seems they’re growing up, after all,” he said, a warm smile on his face.

Holdred handed Hildili another color, and she immediately set to drawing on his arm. Holdred didn’t seem to mind, merely munched on his treat and let her do as she wanted.

Thorin snorted. “Not entirely.”

“I’m fairly certain I saw Kili doing the same to you just last week,” Bilbo said to Fili. His eyes were red but dry, and he looked more at peace than he had been before.

Fili scoffed and let his uncle take his jab. “That was different. That was because I lost a bet, and it was either that or let him throw a vegetable at me.”

There were days that Dernwyn was grateful that her children would take after their strong, loyal father. And then there were days where she really hoped they wouldn’t. “I don’t even want to know what the bet itself was,” she muttered. Fili began to answer, and she held up her hand. “No, I’ve had enough stress for today, I don’t even want to know. If you tell me, _I’ll_ be the one to throw a vegetable at you.”

Fili rolled his eyes, then, after pressing a quick kiss to her temple, went over to his children. Hildili began chatting away merrily, proudly showing off her drawings on Holdred. Holdred kept adding in where he could, but seemed content to let his sister babble on.

It was enough to let her breathe more evenly. Dernwyn wasn’t all that surprised when Bilbo and Thorin left a few minutes later and merely bade them a good night. She hoped they would actually seek rest and sleep, but she knew better than that. No, they were going off somewhere to keep talking. She hoped it helped with the haunted look in Bilbo’s eyes.

The morning would tell all, she supposed. For the time being, however, she was content to settle back in her chair by the hearth and watch her family play together. Together, not down some horrible tunnel or lost beyond reach. They were there, they were alive, and she could breathe again. They were safe.

And that was all she could’ve truly asked for.

When Fili met her eyes from across the room, she gave a genuine, if tired, smile, and saw it returned. Now they could both finally rest.

Give her a sword and a battle any day. It was much less taxing and wearying than being a worried parent.

 

All Thorin wanted was to curl up within the warm furs and quilts of his bed and wrap his arms around his living, breathing husband. But there was still so much he needed to speak to Bilbo about, things Bilbo needed to hear. Such as that the thieves were locked up far below them, never to threaten his husband again.

Losing Bilbo down the air gap, unable to hear a response for hours, had left him feeling much as he had on the long journey across Middle-Earth. Not knowing where Bilbo was, if he was even still alive. Never mind the fact that his grand niece had been missing as well, and just the thought of his little Hildili no longer answering made his heart begin to pound once more. It was a fear he had not felt in quite some time.

It seemed today had stirred a remembered fear in Bilbo, too. Fear that Thorin would’ve done anything to keep from him.

Bilbo pulled his robe away and tossed it aside without a care, a true sign that he was exhausted and not himself. On a usual night, the robe would have been hung in its usual place with care. Thorin took it from the ground and did so instead of his husband, never taking his eyes from Bilbo, who was making his way over to the bed. “Bilbo,” Thorin called softly.

His hobbit was already shaking his head. “No, no, I cannot do _any_ more tonight,” he said wearily. “I absolutely cannot. Can we just…go to bed? Please?”

If not for how desperate the plea was in his voice, Thorin would have simply ignored the request and pressed on. But faced with his injured husband, one who had gone through fear and assault enough today, it was hard to deny him. And truly, it was all Thorin wanted, at the moment.

As an answer, Thorin moved and settled onto the bed. The relief on Bilbo’s face was nearly palpable, and he slid himself across the bed until he was all but draped across Thorin. It was all Thorin could do to not clutch at his husband, and forced himself to only pull him into his embrace, hands gently brushing through his hobbit’s curls. Bilbo let out a sigh and nuzzled closer still.

It was almost unfair, what he was about to do. But Thorin could still feel the tension thrumming through his husband, and no matter how tired Bilbo was, he knew he’d never sleep with his mind racing as it was. “I never would have let him touch you,” Thorin swore quietly. “Ever. And I will never let anyone lay a hand upon you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Bilbo murmured. “It’s an impossible promise, Thorin. You can’t be there for every moment, you can’t plan for every contingency. You can’t stop fate.”

Thorin felt his arms tighten around Bilbo, as if his embrace alone could keep the world out. He glared up at the ceiling, ready to defy fate in a moment’s notice. _Watch me,_ he thought. Out loud, he promised, “No, but I will defend you and protect you with my last breath. Of that you can be sure of.” He pressed a kiss to his husband’s brow and whispered, “And were you to never sleep beside me again, I would not be distraught. As long as I have your heart, your love, I can call myself a blessed dwarf.”

The words from the man had rankled, had sliced through Thorin, had made him want to tear the man apart with his bare hands. The thought that Bilbo held no other purpose in Thorin’s life except as a _bed warmer_ had fueled his rage until only Bilbo’s touch had held him back. His brilliant, loving, forgiving husband, his hobbit who had fallen down an air gap because he’d refused to leave Hildili alone. The one who had been willing to sacrifice himself to save Middle-Earth and thousands who would never know, or care, about what he had done. He was so much more than soft skin and kissable lips. He was Bilbo Baggins, Thorin’s Beloved, the reason Thorin smiled and lived.

The tension slid from his husband’s frame with a silent breath out. “Good for us both I _do_ enjoy sleeping beside you,” Bilbo said after a moment, voice heavy and drowsy, and Thorin chuckled for the first time in hours.

“Indeed. Sleep; I am here.” And he was never leaving again. Fate could try to separate them, but it would fail.

“Told you you’d find us,” Bilbo murmured, and then he was asleep, breaths warm against Thorin’s cheek.

It took longer for Thorin to fall asleep, his own mind whirling about like a storm. When sleep came, however, it was a peaceful one, with Bilbo wrapped around him and he wrapped around his beloved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here's the thing.
> 
> The next story is going to be a whopper. Like, I have no clue how many chapters. It'll be a WIP. The end of this fic is, essentially, already written. Will it wind up being as long as my 'to change'? Holy good gravy I hope not. I don't know that I'd survive another one of those. I don't know that YOU would all survive another one of those.
> 
> Will it be the last story? No. I have others planned. There are other short fics to be written. I have a ghastly amount of notes for it.
> 
> But it may take time before you see anything else from me. Because I'm working on huge monster fic, and I'd like to have a bit together before I start publishing.
> 
> Bear with me.


End file.
